Rush
by Your Iron Lung
Summary: Being revised.
1. Dangerous

"That's…that's all I wanted, was I…was I too selfish, Gai-sensei?"

( o.o) 

On October 19th, he committed suicide by jumping off the roof of his small house. According to his suicide note he could 'No longer feel love' and felt 'Completely alone' and was 'Lost in an ignorance created by pain.'

Shattered by the loss of his one and only true friend, Gaara could now feel the emotions that Lee had described. Lee had hid it all so well, his feelings of loss and turmoil, hidden behind facades of laughter and false smiles. Lee was the last person Gaara expected to do something so rash. Now, walking, eating, and being alone, Gaara too contemplated taking the easy way out.

(o.o )

Standing alone in the shower Gaara let the warm water soak into his hair and roll over his pale skin. He closed his eyes in an effort to relax, letting the warmth of the water enter his mind. He felt the blood flow from a freshly made cut in his arm and gripped the razor tightly, ready to make another scar.

The blade held in his hand was that of his sister's. It wasn't so bad. Gaara enjoyed the pain created by running a sharp piece of metal glide across the skin. It was like art. Gaara opened his eyes and stared at the many numerous cuts that decorated his pale arm. He took the razor and above his previous cut, let the sharp metal slide across his skin, peeling apart the skin and leaving behind a thin line of red that soon flooded down his arm.

He missed Lee. He missed him a lot. Cutting had become a sort of game to them. Whenever they took a shower, they would take turns cutting each other and the first person to swoon because of blood loss was at the mercy of the other. Lee had usually won this game but didn't take advantage of Gaara too much.

But now, cutting himself was a tedious chore he did in order to remember his fallen friend. Gaara suddenly felt angry, how could he have been so ignorant to his friends pain?

"It should've been me, not Lee!"

He threw the razor down to the floor and watched the water mix with his blood creating a pink tint. The tears that had been unable to flow at Lee's funeral flooded out now and mixed with the water the shower head sputtered out at him. He rested his head against the shower wall and stood there sobbing for quite a while.

He was only awakened from his sobbing state when he heard pounding on the bathroom door. He heard his sister's voice, but could not hear the words. He assumed that she wanted to get in the bathroom, so he turned off the water and stared at the drain as the pink water flowed down it in the shape of a miniature whirlpool.

He stood in the shower a little while longer to let the water on his thin body drip to the floor. He wrung out his hair and stepped out of the shower. He wiped off his cuts and rubbed his bright red hair to be rid of those tiny droplets of water that clung to various locks of his hair. He then put the towel around his waist and gazed down at his arm casually to view his labor of love. In rather large messy strokes, Lee's name could clearly be read above Gaara's thick blue vein.

(o.o) 

Despite Temari's desperate pleas, Gaara had made up his mind. He was going to drop out of school tomorrow. Gaara prepared for his last day of school by wearing the most gothic clothes he could find. He pulled a fishnet glove over his right arm which had Lee's name cut into it. His black baggy pants with chains hanging off had neon yellow stripes and had billowed out over his feet. His feet were comfortably enclosed within black, steel toed lace up boots that gave him an additional 5 inches n height. His shirt, which was also black, wrapped tightly around his thin frame, making it all the more evident just how thin he was. He placed his ninja band around his waist, just as Lee used to do. Wearing his ninja band wasn't something Gaara normally did, but in a desperate effort to remember his friend, he had taken up the habit.

He grabbed his school bag, which was very light since he didn't bother to carry his numerous text books around with him, and headed towards the door which gave him an exit from this hellhole he called home.

"Hold on, Gaara! You can't go out like that!" Temari called after him.

He neither turned nor gave any recognition that he had heard her, but stopped with his hand on the door handle.

"If your going to wear fishnets on your arms, at least wear one on the other arm! Now, where's your other glove?"

In a hard voice that didn't seem to fit the pale boy, he answered gravely:

"Lee has it."

Saying no more than that, Gaara walked out the door and head on to school.

( . )

The sky was dark and gray as it tried to rain, sending random spasms of rain and powerful gusts of wind to whip around his facing, waving his hair around madly. He narrowed his eyes and walked away from his home, leaving Temari to argue with Kankuro. He walked on a sidewalk and to the left, a small rural road and to the right, a lawn full of dead grass. A crowd of kids from his school stood up ahead, waiting for the bus. Speaking of, came at that moment, making a horrid squeaking sound as it positioned itself in front of the kids. Gaara waited, unwilling to walk through the large crowd. Two boys fought at each other for position to get on the bus first.

"Move it, Naruto!"

"No!"

Gaara rolled his eyes to the heavens above and in an effort to make it to school on time, decided to shove his way through the crowd, purposefully steeping on peoples feet to make them move aside.

"Hey man, watch where you put those clod hoppers."

Gaara paid no attention to this comment and continued on his way. The voice was calm and cool, semi scratchy but with a relaxed tone of mood. He felt a firm grasp on his shoulder and Gaara reluctantly turned to face the speaker.

He found himself eye level with a boy his own age whose hair was pulled up into a lopsided pony tail sitting tilted on his head. Gaara glared at the ignorant boy and shrugged the hand off. His mind was now working to fix a name with the boy.

"Don't walk off when I'm talking to you. What're you supposed to be anyway?" The boy obviously disproved of Gaara's odd fashion sense.

_Shikamaru_

Yes, that was the arrogant boy's name.

"I am my own person." Answered Gaara with a stone edge in his voice.

Shikamaru shrugged.

"Alls I'm saying is, watch where your going next time."

The doors to the bus closed behind Shikamaru's head and the bus, obviously tired of waiting for Shikamaru, rolled away.

"Hey, wait! You forgot me!" He called out to the bus. He tried waving it down but the only response he got was that of the blonde boy making a face at him from the bus' emergency exit.

"Dammit, why didn't you tell me the bus was leaving?!"

The edges of Gaara's mouth twitched as if to smile, but that would be unheard of, so he kept his sinister frown.

"It was no concern of mine whether you decided to ride the bus or not."

As he spoke, the sky finally made up it's mind and began to rain, rather hard, too.

"Shit…now it's raining…how troublesome…"

Gaara turned and walked away, leaving Shikamaru to grumble and complain about the rain. Gaara brushed a few locks of his red hair to the side, to reveal his kanji heart.

From behind, he could hear footsteps running after him, splashing through puddles and sending water everywhere.

"Hey, wait up! I don't know how to get to school by walking!"

_How troublesome…_thought Gaara. He didn't know why, or what me him do it, but he paused and waited for the other boy to catch up. As Shikamaru approached, he popped the collar of his shirt in a futile effort to stay warm. He walked beside Gaara and they continued on in silence.

That silence, however, did not last.

"So…we're in the same art class, aren't we? Funny, but I don't know you name…mind telling me?"

With ice and annoyance in his voice, he told him.

"Gaara"

Shikamaru rubbed his bare arms as the rain and wind continue falling and flailing about in a torrent around the two of them. The occasional car passed by, sending sheets of water on to the two boys. Gaara didn't mind much, water didn't hurt him, but it gave Shikamaru something else to complain about.

Shikamaru groaned as he was once again sprayed by a car that had just drove by.

"Man, I hope this water doesn't ruin my sketchbook…Troublesome rain…"

Gaara didn't pay much attention to Shikamaru's rambling and turned a corner and walked down an alley, which had proved to Gaara to be a short cut to school. Shikamaru hesitated slightly as the darkness of the alley loomed in front of him.

"Hey…Gaara…are you sure this alley is…"

Gaara gave an irritated sigh.

"Is what?"

A cat jumped from a nearby trashcan lining the building to the left, causing Shikamaru to jump and trail after Gaara rather closely.

"Safe?"

Gaara frowned and didn't answer.

"Gaara?" Shikamaru persisted

_Pathetic…_Gaara stopped walking which forced Shikamaru to thump into him.

"Look," began Gaara, "_I'm _more dangerous than _anything _you'll ever hope to me, got it? Grow up already."

When Gaara was agitated, his tongue became a ruthless weapon that could easily bring down the mightiest person. But, Shikamaru's personality had changed so easily and fast, Gaara was surprised. 15 minutes ago, he was playing the cool tough guy, but now? He was a whiny baby afraid of the dark! How did this happen? Gaara glanced back over his shoulder at Shikamaru who was timidly glancing around, trailing closely behind Gaara.

(o.o)

"Okay, kiddo's! Today we'll try experimenting by making sculptures out of clay! Won't that be fun?"

The art teacher's voice was high pitched, yet, it was barely above a whisper. She glanced around at the students in her class, looking for some form of enthusiasm. Shikamaru was the only one who looked vaguely excited and had begun sketching ideas into his sketch book.

"Okay, lets all **migrate**," she put in extra emphasis on the word migrate and gestured with her thumbs into the direction she indicated, "To the other side of the class."

With an occasional groan the students packed up their stuff and headed to the other side of the class where 7 long tables were set up with a thick cloth covering the tables' surfaces.

Gaara took a seat all the way in the back of the class at the last table, as was his custom. He closed his eyes and tipped the chair back onto it's back two legs. Shikamaru took a seat beside him and took out his sketchbook, and began to draw. In his odd voice he questioned Gaara:

"What're you gonna sculpt?"

Gaara didn't like talking and merely shrugged his shoulders in a weak response with a bored expression outlined on his pale face.

"Come on, don't you have any ideas?"

Gaara frowned and with a frustrated sigh decided to give his voice a workout.

"Look, I'm probably going to be dropping out tomorrow, so it doesn't really matter if I have any 'ideas' or not."

"Really now, think about this…"

Gaara tuned out Shikamaru's voice and continued to let his eyes remain closed and began to think about Lee

"_Okay, kiddos! Here's what we're gonna do…"_

_Lee leaned in close from across the four person desk to whisper to Gaara._

"_Listen to this! I think her ass is so big, if she bent over it'd eclipse the sun!"_

_It wasn't that funny, but because it had come from Lee, Gaara smiled. Lee had been able to make Gaara smile so easily, but to smile now, was a freedom Gaara didn't feel he deserved._

_Shikamaru who had then sat behind Lee, made a face but returned to sketching in his book._

_Even though Lee usually respected his teachers and elders, everyone, absolutely everyone made fun of the art teacher. Except for a select few._

"Stay in school, ok?"

Shikamaru's voice brought Gaara back to the present and was forced to open his eyes. He looked at Shikamaru who was gazing at Gaara with a curious expression. Shikamaru slowly closed his sketchbook and put his pencil down and spoke to Gaara with that oddly cool voice again:

"Ok? Stay in school."

Automatically Gaara nodded his head and then turned his attention to the lump of clay that had been set before him.

"I'll hold you to it then." Said Shikamaru, and with that, took the clay in his hands and began to softly mold the clay.

(.) 'I don't own Naruto.' - GW


	2. Pain

As Gaara began to depart from school that afternoon, snow now swirled down from the gray sky. As hard as he tried to prevent himself from shivering, a shudder escaped his tight self control. He began to follow his regular path he took when leaving school, his mind drifting to when he had promised Shikamaru he wouldn't drop out. There was more to it, though…the reason he had agreed not to drop out…he honestly really didn't want to drop out but had decided to do it only because he thought it would get him the attention he had so desperately wanted.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the small black sports car that had pulled up beside him, flashing its lights at him. Finally, the driver got angry and blared the horn, rudely pulling Gaara away from his mind-drifting state. Gaara blinked blankly at the driver, who was gesturing for him to get in the car. It only took him a few seconds to realize it was Temari behind the wheel. He sighed heavily and debated how fast her car could hit 60 and if it would be enough time for him to escape. She blared the horn angrily again and he reluctantly got in the car.

As he opened the passenger side, a warm blast of air welcomed and enveloped him. Journey was playing softly in the background and he dumped his backpack into the backseat, quickly closing the door. Hesitantly he put the safety belt on and crossed his arms, placing a sinister frown onto his already sinister face. The only time his older sister bothered to pick him up from school was when she had decided a good lecture was in order. He prepared to tune out her annoying voice while whisking himself away to other, better thoughts.

"Gaara," she began bluntly as she drove off "Did you reconsider dropping out? You'd be missing out on a lot of opportunities offered only through a high school experience!"

'Blah blah blah…' thought Gaara. 'I've already reconsidered; I don't need any of this shit right now.'

He gave no sign that he had heard her at all. He stared in front of him, an icy glare in his emerald eyes. The scenery set before them was that of a winter wonderland. The snow poured in from all directions, frosting everything in a thick white blanket. The frozen water gently glided down across the sky. The only sound that disrupted this peaceful solitude was that of Temari's windshield wipers constant thumping.

"Gaara, did you hear any of what I just said?" she shot him an angry glare.

In frustration Gaara closed his eyes and did the only thing that could possibly make him look more sinister, frown deeper and harder.

Temari too was frustrated, and she let him know this by giving a weary sigh.

"Fine. Shut me out. Don't let me help you."

"I don't need help."

"Don't you even start with me! You need help, Gaara! Cutting yourself? Taking on dead people's habits?! You need help, and I can help you, at least let me try." She pleaded with him, but this only frustrated him more.

"I don't need help."

Again Temari sighed and decided to leave the rest of her argument for later, making the rest of the ride home silent, except for the occasional song that popped into the weak radio.

(o.o)

Home, not much to brag about, but was the only place Gaara felt at least somewhat…'safe'. His 'home' consisted of a simple two story house resting on a lawn full of dead, yellow-golden summer grass. As soon as Temari stopped the car, Gaara shot out, leaving before she could lock the doors, trapping him to the confines of her car, lecturing him about a decision he had already made.

Gaara left his school bag in the car, not feeling the need to bring it in. He made his way past the small living room, past the kitchen to the staircase, and deftly made his way up the stairs. He paused as he reached the top, risking a glance down the hall to where behind a large wooden door, his father resided. He then opened the door to his room and closed it, making sure to push the lock into place, locking himself from the rest of the world, leaving him to do whatever he so chose to do , in the little space he could call a 'Sanctuary of Solitude.'

He pushed through the various piles of dirty clothing he lay on the floor to his desk where an out of date CD player sat. He quickly put a CD into the thing and blared Evanessence. Then, without a care in the world, he flumped backwards onto his bed, closing his eyes and becoming oblivious to everything that surrounded him.

_I'm so tired of waiting here, suppressed by all my childish fears, and if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave, because your presence still lingers here, and it won't leave me alone._

A sudden screaming rang through his head, echoing in the depths of his ears. It took him a little while longer to realize it was he who was screaming, in fear and pain. He looked down at his hands, which were smaller, and at his arms, which were bleeding profusely. In horror he tried to raise his head, but was immediately pushed down by a hand upon his head.

**  
**He was kneeling down beside the end of a rather large jogging machine, the speed set as high as it would go. A rough, strong hand gripped his head and was forcing his face ever closer to the fast moving tread. Then he heard it. The tabooed voice of his father.

"You should be careful around these things, Gaara, they can be very, very dangerous."

Gaara screamed again as his father forced his face onto the rapid tread. The feeling of having his skin rubbed off sent spasms of pain throughout his body, making him tremble and shake, and scream and sob more. The sight of tears and his son's screaming made the horrid man push his 5 year old son's face harder onto the tread.

"I love you, daddy! I love you!" screamed Gaara over and over again.

"I love you, daddy, I love you!"

Finally, Gaara felt the relief of having his father roughly pick his weak son off the treadmill and threw him carelessly aside and tromped out of his room, but he wasn't yet done tormenting his poor innocent child. Gaara lay sobbing on the ground, his face twisted and deformed from having the treadmill distort it. He could feel the slight warm trickle of the blood slowly roll down his face and sobbed all the more harder while repeating:

"I love you daddy…I love you daddy…"

'I hate you, daddy, I hate you with my whole being.'

He heard his father return, but didn't look up. Maybe if he played dead, his father would leave him alone. No luck for the poor young Gaara. His father kicked him hard in the ribcage with thick leather boots, sending the air out of his lungs and was left choking for breath. His father then grabbed him by the roots of his hair and lugged him out of the room. He paused before the staircase, and with all his might, threw poor Gaara down the stairs. He landed on the floor and hit his nose hard, which then began to bleed profusely.

Gaara's father then picked up his limp son and punted him down the hall and into the kitchen where he skidded across the floor and hit the counter that stood out like an island in the middle of the kitchen.

"I love you daddy…I love you daddy…"

Gaara's father loomed over the poor 5 year old boy's whimpering sobbing form and began to relentlessly kick him in the stomach over and over again, the sight of seeing his son squirm seeming to egg him on. Gaara's vision faded to black as the sick rhythmic thud to his stomach continued. He heard Temari and Kankuro's voices plead with their enraged father to leave Gaara alone, but that did not stop the large man.

'I hate you father, I hate you with all that I am.'

(-.-)

Gaara woke in a cold sweat and instantly felt his face for any sign of a wound. Feeling none, he rubbed his stomach, which was sore. This didn't surprise him, but a knock on the door did.

He expected to hear Temari's voice but got an unpleasant surprise when he heard Kankuro's instead.

"Gaara. Get out here, now."

Hesitant, Gaara got off the bed where he had relived the worst beating of his life and tuned down his stereo. He approached the door and opened it, the click of the lock opening went unnoticed. Kankuro sent him a glare that let him know he should follow. He did so without retaliation and followed Kankuro down the stairs and led him into the living room where a man, with gray funky hair, in a casual suit sat with Temari.

"What's going on?" asked Gaara as his eyes slowly shifted from Temari to the strange man to Kankuro and back to Temari.

"Gaara," said Temari, "This is Officer Kakashi Hatake, from the police force. He wanted to talk with you."

"New evidence," began 'Officer' Kakashi, "has proven that Lee did not commit suicide, but was murdered, with ease apparently."

Gaara felt a surge of relief, but that relief was soon replaced with a small paranoia. He was relieved to find out that his betrothed had not taken the sinful way of escaping life. His paranoia came from the fact that whoever had dared kill the dark haired enigma may come after him for some reason, but Gaara's emotionless face revealed none of this.

"And why does that bring you here, sir?" questioned Temari.

At this, the officer placed a fake, cheesy grin on his face and scratched the back of his head.

"Well, we went over some records back at the station and noticed how much Gaara had a history of picking fights with this Lee person and that is-"

"Wait, you must be mistaken, you see Gaara lo-"

"Loathed Lee, yes we know, and based on these facts, that has put Gaara here on the top of our list of suspects."

Gaara felt like a brick of lead, but again let none of this show. He felt horrible that he could even be put up as a possible suspect, no, not after all the things Lee and him had gone through! No, it wasn't possible! They were seriously mistaken…

Gaara clenched his fist as the cop looked questioningly at Gaara, as though expecting him to confess to this unforeseen murder.

The words "I didn't do it." Flowed effortlessly from the red haired boys lips.

The officer closed his weary eyes and sighed, once again scratching the back of his head.

"Regardless, we'd appreciate it if you came with us to be interrogated."

"He will do no such thing!" shouted Temari as she leapt from her seat. She glared evilly at the man who had suddenly barged in on the family _she _had so desperately put back together after her failure of a father had shattered and ruined it.

The one thing Gaara hated most about his sister was that she felt the need to always stick up for him. He hated it. He could fight for himself, he didn't need his sister to tell him what he could and could not do. He didn't want to hide behind his sister any longer, and therefore decided to make his own decision for once in his life.

"Save your breath, Temari. I'm going with him."

"What? No, Gaara. We can do this another way."

"I don't need you to make my own decisions! I'm not a kid anymore!"

Temari was about to retort, but thought better of it. It wasn't very often her youngest brother stood up for himself. If this is what he truly wanted, she'd let him be.

Outside Kakashi's car was parked with the engine running. Gaara got in the backseat behind the classic metal grill that forbid him from making physicall contact with the cops in the front seat. In the passenger side of the car another cop sat, waiting for Kakashi to arrive. He wore his hair the same way Shikamaru did, in that same lopsided ponytail.

The gray haired officer slowly entered the car, ducking his head to slide into the drivers seat. He buckled his seatbelt and looked over his shoulder, eager to get going. Gaara sat on the right hand side next to the window and propped his chin on the palm of his hand, gazing with uninterested at the white world around them, the world he was now unable to touch.

The passenger up front glanced back at the boy with the yellow stripes on his pants and gently knocked on the metal grail to get his attention.

"Hey, buckle up, ok?"

Gaara silently did as he was told and Kakashi baked out of the gravel driveway, the rocks crunching together under the tremendous weight of the vehicle and drove off.

When they arrived, Gaara quickly got out of the car. Riding in cars made him nauseous and he didn't feel like upchucking in front of two cops. He was led through the old rundown police station, where there were people behind desks with stacks of paper stacked high, some threatening to tip over as they were so crookedly stacked.

He was directed to a large green door in the back of the station and Kakashi led the way in. Gaara followed reluctantly while the other cop, now known to him as Iruka, walked off. Iruka stood in front of a thick plate of tinted glass and pressed a red button. By pressing the said button, he was able to hear the conversation that would soon take place beyond the glass.

The wooden chair's legs screeched against the floor as they were briefly pulled from their previous position. The two sat across from each other, Gaara fixing his unnerving evil glare upon the gray haired man who then proceeded to lay a manila folder onto the table. He looked through it briefly and Gaara assumed it was his record.

"Thanks for coming down here…Gaara."

Gaara said nothing in return, but crossed his arms and legs and engraved a stern frown onto his face.

"All right, lets not waste your…'precious' time and began the interrogation, shall we?" without expecting an answer Kakashi proceeded to ask the questions.

"When was the last time you saw Lee?"

Gaara closed his eyes in thought, unable to recall off the top of his head when the 'last' time he had seen Lee. Gaara had not seen Lee at all on the 19th, and on the 18th Lee had taken Gaara to the movies. He only told the officer the date.

On a small pad of paper, Kakashi recorded this information. He then asked his next question.

"If you despised Lee so much, how, exactly, did you see him on a Saturday?"

Gaara frowned harder, not wanting to reveal to this strange man his relationship with Lee. It was his own business what he and Lee did, and this strange man had no right to pry into his life.

"Ran into him at the movies." If he said where he had met him, but not what they had been doing, it wouldn't affect the information, would it?

"Right…right…" Kakashi looked skeptical but continued the interrogation. Gaara gave only the bare minimum when it came to answering these questions, not willing to say much more, talking wasn't really his 'thing'.

Finally, after about an hour, Kakashi looked over all the answers Gaara had given him and sighed.

"Thanks, you can go now."

Eagerly Gaara pushed back the chair he was sitting in and left the room in which this man had pried into his private life. He walked past all the desks and made his way to the front door. He opened the door and almost collided with the person who was trying to get in.

"Oh, hey, it's you again. Didn't take my advice in watching where you were going, did you?"

Shikamaru squinted at Gaara as he tried to find some sort of explanation as to what Gaara could be doing here. Gaara was trying to get past Shikamaru, having felt he had done enough talking for the day, but Shikamaru unknowingly continued to block his escape route.

"Hey, what were you doing in there anyways?"

Tired, annoyed and agitated beyond belief, Gaara sighed as he gave up trying to get around this 'roadblock'.

"I was being interrogated."

"For what?"

It was obvious to Gaara then that giving the bare minimum was not going to work with Shikamaru.

"For a murder."

Shikamaru gave only a mild expression of shock and scratched the back of his head in uneasiness, yet still he did not let Gaara pass.

"Hey, Gaara, you didn't happen to see my dad in there, did you?"

"Was his name Iruka?"

"No"

"Then no."

"Oh, I guess I'll go home, then."

Finally Shikamaru subsided from his post and Gaara walked past him and on down the sidewalk. Shikamaru walked not too far behind Gaara and they continued this way in silence, the only sound being made was that of the chains on Gaara's pants jingling with each step he took.

Gaara took a left down a small side path, Shikamaru doing the same. Again they walked along in silence, Shikamaru whistling a pleasant tune despite the intense cold. Gaara took yet another left and then a right, Shikamaru doing the same. Finally Gaara got fed up and turned on the poor innocent boy.

"Did you forget how to get home now too?! Do you expect me to lead you there?!"

Shikamaru stopped whistling and fixed an oddly cool gaze upon the agitated red head.

"Woah, calm down, dude. I live a couple of places away from you, relax, I'm not stalking you."

Gaara narrowed his eyes at him and then turned to briskly walk away, towards home.

"Mood swings, how troublesome…"

(x.x)

Gaara swept quickly into his house, and ignored Temari and Kankuro and went straight up the stairs. He slammed the door to his room and locked it, once again locking himself into his 'Sanctuary'.

"I'm home…" muttered Shikamaru as he shuffled into his small one story house. He dropped his backpack by the door and politely took off his shoes. He flicked on the lights and made his way into the living room, where, tucked off to the side was a shrine of his deceased mother.

"Not that anyone really cares…" he mumbled.

He withdrew a small hand held calendar he kept in his pocket and flipped it open and began counting the days until his father was finally released from prison.

"2 ½ months…5 years wasn't long enough…it should've been for life…"


	3. Confusion

Evan as a child Gaara had always been mildly disturbed. It could've been his strange 'premonitions' he received in his dreams, or it could've come from the parental abuse he sustained from his father. He had also heard voices, sometimes they were very faint, seeming to whisper to him from across the world, other times they were screaming painfully into his ears, tearing and ripping at his eardrums, demanding they be heard. And the poor child Gaara was, had thought this was normal.

No one ever paid Gaara any attention when he made complaints about these mysterious otherworldly voices; they were all too busy playing with…'clay', trying to sculpt the poor neglected child into their own creation, their own tool. They didn't think that the twisted, pitiful Gaara would ever amount to anything. They were wrong.

_Hush now baby don't you cry_

_Mama's gonna make all of your_

_Nightmares come true._

_Mama's gonna put all her fears into you_

_Mama's gonna keep you right here_

_Under her wing_

_She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing_

_Mama will keep baby cozy and warm._

_Ooooh babe, ooooh babe, ooooh babe_

_Of course mama'll help build the wall._

_Pink Floyd, Mother_

That night, as Gaara lay peacefully in bed, a delightfully frightening smile plastered onto his face, another childhood memory replayed in his head, though this one brought him much pleasure.

A younger version of the red-headed enigma stalked the streets, making them his own by casting his frightful shadow onto the path he wandered. In each small hand he carried a large can, full of gasoline with dampened rags hanging limply out the opening of the makeshift explosive, emitting that sometimes addicting smell. A horrid smile revealing most of his shiny white teeth decorated his pale face, his eyes wide with the monstrous glee he felt, almost maddening.

He crossed paths with a mailbox, filled to the brim with letters, bills and the like. A deep laughter, almost demonic came from is throat, making anyone who noticed the child receive an un-delightful chill rush up their spine. If it weren't so dark out, many people would have experienced this ravishing treat. Without a moment's hesitation, he gently placed his precious cans onto the ground beside the box and withdrew a small pack of fire kindling sticks known to us as matches. He struck the head of the stick against the strip that came with the pack and paused, watching the flame flicker and dance in the gently blowing wind. Its life was in his hands…with a careless flick, he could end this beautiful things life. After he stared into the deep never ending abyss of the small flame, he opened the lid of the mailbox and tossed the still lit match casually into the mailbox.

Almost as if in a dream, the wooden box that carried precious information burst immediately into glorious yellow golden-orange flames, licking the night sky tenderly. His awkward smile spread across his face like a plague, his eyes stretching, testing the limits of his eye sockets. His laughter now became a shrill shriek of joy as his one true passion in life unfolded before his enlightened eyes.

At long last he retrieved the beer cans filled with the flammable liquid and moved on. He lit several more mailboxes before it suddenly hit him. He wanted more. He wanted huge flames, flames that would engulf this hateful world he was forced to be a part of. Gaara's hands shook with excitement when he realized he could do bigger better things with his flame making ability, and so he set off, searching for the perfect target in which to set the world aflame.

He stumbled upon it as if by accident, or maybe it was destiny, he never could figure it out.

The house that loomed in front of him wiped the evil smile off his face and caused an odd sensation to overcome his small body. Deep down inside, he knew that this was it. This was what would satisfy his outrageous Pyro thirst. He set down his cans and stood back up, staring at the house. He knew that if he was caught, he would most certainly be sent to juvy, or something to the like. This was a devastating crime for a 5 year old to be committing, but then again, Gaara was no ordinary 5 year old. Silently he repeated the action of swiping the fire stick across the strip the match package contained.

Swiftly he whisked one of the beer cans into his hand and quickly lit the limp cloth hanging out of it, pausing only long enough for it to catch and grow the brewing fire. Then, he aimed and launched it into a ground floor window. The crashing sound of the glass mixed with a small explosion as the can exploded. Soon he could see flames catch the curtains of the window and that crazed smile of his reappeared. Laughter soon followed this strange smile but quickly both the haunting laugh and the queer smile disappeared.

A face was in the window.

A child about Gaara's age was screaming in pain and agony, tears flowing steadily out of those lifeless eyes. The skin was drooping and melting, dripping to the floor as the face writhed in heart wrenching pain. The screams echoed in Gaara's head, bouncing around and around making Gaara scream too. The hair on the face of the head ignited and the face's crown burned as well, leaving nothing behind but a charred remain of a boy who once lived. Gaara did not stay to watch the amazing feat of human flesh melt and drip to the floor, oh no. Gaara was running, running as far as he could, screaming and sobbing, wishing he had never been born. The fear that possessed him was enormous and he got the continuous feeling of that boy's face following him. He continued to run, screaming for salvation as he chocked on his sobs, desperately willing oxygen to fill his empty lungs.

Gaara woke up screaming frightfully loud, the screams just pouring out his aching throat, rolling out of his mouth to fill the empty air. He wriggled his fingers into his red hair, and continued screaming, his eyes filled with an immense fear. Finally his screams subsided and gave way to immense sobs. He sat up in his bed and brought his knees up to his chest. He dunked his face into the nook his knees made and sobbed for hours on end, unable to sleep.

_If you should go skating _

_On the thin ice of modern life,_

_Dragging behind you the silent reproach_

_Of a million tear stained eyes,_

_Don't be surprised, when a crack in the ice_

_Appears under your feet_

_You slip out of depth and out of your mind,_

_With your fear flowing out behind you_

_As you claw the thin ice._

_Pink Floyd, The Thin Ice_

A continuous ringing awakened Shikamaru that night. He groaned miserably and tried to shut out the phone as it rang madly off the hook. Finally he sat up, glaring angrily at the clock as it read 1:00 a.m. He sighed and flicked the lamp that sat on his bedside table on and grabbed the phone roughly, holding the receiver up to his ear.

"Moshi moshi." He said with sleep heavily laid out on his awkward voice.

"Good morning," the voice was thick and gravelly, cracking up in places and Shikamaru realized that the person speaking to him was trying to mask his voice by using a voice modifier.

"Who is this?" Shikamaru asked sternly, slightly alarmed at this mysterious phone call.

"That doesn't matter."

"What do you want? Who the hell is this?!"

A static sound followed and Shikamaru wasn't sure if the call had been dropped or if the speaker was laughing.

"Stay away from the flame or you will be burned."

"Huh? Wait, what's the-" the other line clicked and he stared blankly at the receiver, the last word of his unfinished sentence fell from his lips. "Flame…"

At last the slight adrenaline rush subsided and was replaced with sleepiness. He carefully put the phone back into place and turned the lights back off. He fell back onto his pillows and waited for the familiar sanctuary of sleep to come rushing back.

"Oy! Gaara, Gaara you awake? Get up; you're going to be late!"

Temari's voice floated in through his door and her fist banged against his door. Unwillingly Gaara had fallen asleep, still in his position of protection. Reluctant to move, he aroused himself, trying to shake the sleep out of his head.

Immediately a sharp throbbing pierced his head making him grasp his head and gasp for air. Slowly, as the pain subsided, he rubbed his forehead, massaging his temples gingerly. His vision had smeared when the pain had blistered into his head and he sat in his bed waiting for his vision to come back into focus. He sighed heavily as Temari banged again onto Gaara's door, urging him to get up. Afraid of more pain, he hesitantly picked his body up and off the bed.

He regretted this motion as the room swirled in front of him and the pain came back. The floor was slipping from under his bare feet and he felt himself falling backwards. He groped around for a support but found none. There had never been any support in his life. He groaned miserably as he tried to support himself onto his right arm. He closed his eyes in pain as his head throbbed continuously. It was as if he had an immense hangover. Finally he managed to prop himself up onto his elbows and he grimaced. At long last he staggered to his feet and nearly toppled onto his desk filled with random papers. He stared into the cracked mirror that sat at an odd angle and brushed the thin layer of dust that sat on the its reflective surface aside and took a good long look at himself.

A frightfully pale youth with several small fresh cuts on his forehead stared back into his dark, frightened emerald eyes.

-(o.o)-

The loud alarm in Shikamarus room went off, signaling for him to wake up. He slapped it, turning it off, abruptly ending the beeping from the clock. He muttered something angrily and rolled onto his side, then onto the floor. He groaned miserably before he got to his feet, the mysterious call from the previous night momentarily forgotten. Clearing his eyes, he glanced at his clock. 7:30 p.m. He yawned loudly and shuffled along in the dark, trying to find the oddly placed light switch. He continued walking in the darkness until he collided with his dresser. Cursing lightly he reached his hand behind the dresser and flicked the switch positioned behind the dresser.

The sudden light blinded him and he paused momentarily, letting his eyes adjust. He opened wide the bottom drawer and pulled out his fishnet shirt. He slipped it on and then placed a blue-ish pollo shirt. He closed this drawer and then dropped his pajama pants and opened the top drawer and removed a pair of black jeans. He glanced at the clock again and caught his breath, 7:40.

"Shit! I'm going to miss the bus!" He ran out of his room and paced about the living room, looking for his school things. "Shit shit shit!" He found them underneath the coffee table, hidden snuggly beside a pair of missing socks.

"Huh…was wondering wear these were…" he let his mind wander away for a few minutes before he remembered he was in a rush. He rose to his feet and ran to his front door. He quickly tucked on his shoes and tapped them for reassurance. He waved goodbye to the shrine of his mother and went out the door.

The cold wind blew against his frame as he fumbled in his pocket for his house key. He locked the door and turned just in time to see the bus rumbling off.

"Damn…" he muttered as he groaned inwardly and a small rush of depression overcame him. The slight recession of his cheery attitude changed drastically as he saw Gaara emerge from his house hold, the wind toying with his hair in a pleasant teasing fashion. Shikamaru quickly pocketed his key and ran to catch up to the awkward red-head.

(.) _'Hey little girl, want to see my…tentacles??!!'_

The rhythmic thud of Shikamarus Converses pounding along the cement matched the horrid pulsing in Gaara's head and immediately Gaara knew today was not going to go well.

"Hey Gaara, what's up?" said Shikamaru as he caught up to Gaara, his breath crystallizing in front of him.

Gaara didn't answer and would not look at him, unable to muster the strength to raise his aching head against the chilling wind.

"You all right, Gaara?" Shikamaru asked, putting a hand on the youth's shoulder.

Gaara raised his head and stared ruefully at Shikamaru who stopped walking to get a good look at his friend. Gaara's face was frightfully pale as he squinted his eyes to look at Shikamaru, the pain in his head evident in his eyes. It may have been the chill wind blowing against Gaara's thin frame, but either way, he was shaking.

"Gaara?"

Gaara shook off Shikamarus hand and looked away.

"I'm fine."

Shikamaru looked after his friend as he started walking down the path again, swaying slightly.

"You don't look too good, are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm f-i-n-e, fine."

Shikamaru started up his walking pace and met up with Gaara again.

"Odd weather, eh?"

"What?"

"This weather, I mean, it's only mid-October and look! It's snowing!" (this is to clear up my horrible weather/date skills)

Gaara didn't respond but kept his course, not feeling the need to conversate with the boy who complained about absolutely everything.

"Yup," continued Shikamaru, ignoring Gaara's obvious un-interest. "It's usually pretty warm in October…I mean, this weather, it baffles me. It's going to completely throw off my entire flower's growth! And what then will I do to keep my yard interesting eh? What then will I have to paint?"

Gaara scrunched up his face in annoyance but continued walking along in silence. Shikamaru did not catch Gaara's obvious hint and went right on with what he was complaining about.

"It's so cold! Why is it so cold?" he rubbed his bare arms and smiled an odd quirky smile.

Gaara's patience was being strained and Gaara struggled to keep his voice level as he spoke roughly.

"If your so god dammed cold, why don't you buy a fucking jacket?"

Shikamaru thought briefly for a minute before speaking again, making it appear as if he had finally shut up. That is, until Shikamaru spoke again.

"Yes…I see the wisdom in buying a jacket…perhaps I'll get one later today."

"Hmmph"

Another, stronger silence ensued as Shikamaru gazed thoughtfully at Gaara, his finger slowly stroking his chin.

"Do you play guitar?" he asked at last. Gaara sighed and dropped his head.

"What?" said Gaara, his voice exasperated and annoyed.

"Y'know, that instrument that has a feminine figure? That's a guitar."

"I know what a damn guitar is, idiot. I meant it in a 'why do you ask' sort of way."

"Oh" Gaara watched as Shikamaru closed his eyes in thought, waiting for Shikamarus inevitable reply and was mildly surprised when he received none. Suddenly Gaara understood. He rolled his eyes and continued walking in silence. If Shikamaru wanted to play this game, Gaara could play too.

Shikamaru shot Gaara several agitated glances, trying to catch the emerald eyes that remained as emotionless as ever. Gaara's face was stone cold as he gave no recognition of noticing Shikamarus glances. Finally, exasperated, Shikamaru threw up his hands in agitation and glared evilly at Gaara.

"Well?" he demanded angrily.

Gaara shot a quick glance at him "Well what?"

Shikamaru scowled "Aren't you going to inquire as to why I was asking if you played?"

"No." he answered with such frankness that made Shikamaru begin to laugh.

Confused, Gaara stared at the odd boy with a small interest. An odd feeling Gaara hadn't felt since Lee died came over him and he felt a strong urge to laugh with him, to be carefree and cast away all his troubles. To just laugh and laugh the way Shikamaru was doing, to just laugh without any explanation at all…to be free.

"I bet your not going to ask why I was laughing either" said Shikamaru as he caught his breath, the laughter subsiding. "So I'll save my breath. Two can play your game, mister hotshot. Two can play."

Gaara almost ventured a smile but quickly caught himself. After all the trouble he had gone through to not feel happy, smiling now would mean that all his time being solemn was a waste. And Gaara did not like to waste things.

The day passed by with no special events, except for his run in with the Hyuuga boy. He had exchanged a few words with the boy called Neji, but that was all. It was nothing special, at least, not to him.

The bell that released the students to return to their living space rang at last, the last minutes of school always being the longest. Gaara waited for the large crowd of students to stop before he left his classroom and began his trek home. He did not wait for Shikamaru, for he felt that he couldn't deal with much more of Shikamaru's shenanigans. He walked alone, savoring the sweet silence.

(x.x)

As Gaara pushed open his front door and made his way into the kitchen, Temari was on the phone, which was not unusual, but her facial expressions were out of the ordinary. Her brow was creased down over her blue eyes and her mouth was set into a firm frown of distaste as she patiently listened to the voice on the other end of the receiver.

"Ugh…yea, I suppose I can come get him…yeah, uh-huh…" Gaara made his way slowly past Temari, heading for the stairs that lead to his sanctuary.

"Hold on for a moment please?" Temari put a hand over the bottom portion of the phone and spoke to Gaara directly. "Gaara, wait here for a second, ok?"

Gaara frowned but pulled out one of the chairs that circled the kitchen table and sat and stared at his sister. Temari felt his intense gaze and hesitantly turned her back to him, to avoid looking into those emerald pools of pure hatred.

"Yes, sir. I understand. I'll get there as soon as I can. Bye."

She hung up and sighed, slowly turning to face Gaara.

"Gaara," she began after a strong moment of silence. "Kankuro's been arrested for drug dealing in the next state over and they want me to come and watch him."

Gaara sat with unblinking eyes as his sister gazed at him with tired eyes.

"That means I'll be gone for a couple days, but I'll get back as soon as I can, ok? Do you think you'll be alright till then?"

He stared at her coolly.

"Can you handle yourself?" she stated more firmly, looking determinedly into his eyes.

"I'll be fine…"he murmured silently, but it was enough for Temari.

She glanced at the staircase and then back at her brother and laid a gentle hand on his stiffened shoulder.

"If he comes down, call the police, ok? Run away if you have to; just don't let him hurt you. Don't let him touch you."

He rolled his eyes and shrugged her hand off his shoulder. They had had this talk many times before, he knew what to do, he wasn't a baby anymore and he wished she'd stop treating him like one. She stepped back to look at her brother one last time before she left. She turned her back on him and grabbed her purse, heading for the front door.

"Good…luck…"he muttered silently, just barely loud enough for her to hear him.

Nonetheless, the words reached her ears and she smiled to herself. She knew that if she turned to face her brother, he would be gazing elsewhere with those uncaring eyes of his. Those words meant a lot to her and she left the house in a cheery mood.

Gaara remained seated at the table for several minutes after his sister had left. She had left him…left him to deal with whatever misfortune came his way, and she hadn't even told him good-bye.


End file.
